Waiting for That Pie
by Ziggy Pasta
Summary: Cloud and Zack shared an inside joke about pie together. But for Cloud, it meant more than just silly banter between them. Knowing no other way to convey his feelings, Cloud sets out to bake Zack a pie, and deliver it in a very special way.


If there was one word Cloud would use to describe Zack Fair, it wouldn't be _heroic_. It wouldn't be _puppy_. The word _ass_ was often used in Cloud's vernacular, and he had been known to utter _kronidiot_ in his native Nibelwegian tongue from time to time. There was a revolving use of _nerd_, _dork_, and _dummy—_all used with affection of course.

But the one word Cloud would reserve for Zack, and Zack alone, was _clown_.

From the moment he met Zack in Modeoheim, during their evolving bond, and through the comforts and safety of a relationship, Cloud would dub Zack this moniker whenever the chance presented itself. With Zack and his antics, that chance happened often.

"You clown," Cloud would say with amused sentiment.

"If I'm such a clown, why aren't you throwing a pie in my face?" Zack would say, his tone equal to Cloud's jest, but with its own challenge as if daring him to do just that.

It was confusing to Cloud at first, as the only type of pie with which he was familiar was the savory and hearty chicken pot pie of the Nibelwegian culture. To be struck in the face with such a thing was baffling, but Cloud chalked it up to perhaps cultural differences, or an idiom which was lost in translation.

Whenever Cloud was having a rough day—which was more often than he liked to admit—Zack's penchant for oafish behavior would come alive. He was quick to get Cloud to laugh, or share a small smile with the customary, "You clown" at the very least. Zack would nudge and pester Cloud with a variety of responses, such as: "I'm still waiting for that pie!" or "Where's the pie in my face, huh?", or even, "The day you throw a pie in my face will be the day I truly become a clown!"

Despite the peculiar notion, this exchange became like a bit that they would perform, a tradition which was as meaningful as any hug, kiss, or _I love you. _It was their own inside joke, something which brought familiarity and warmth during good times and bad—much like the chicken pot pie itself.

It was something Cloud appreciated so much so that he felt unable to convey how important this ritual was to him. Often he found himself at a loss when thinking of a gesture that would come close to letting Zack know how much his love and levity meant. The only thing he could think to do was to indulge Zack's request of being smacked in the face with a pie.

Cloud wasn't much of a cook. He wasn't much of a baker. He wasn't much of anything beyond using a can opener and pressing buttons on the microwave. But for this, he wanted to truly apply himself. This meant scouring the internet for recipes, watching videos on how to properly use a rolling pin, how to flute the edges of the crust, using fresh peas and carrots instead of frozen. He practiced boiling and shredding the chicken (which was overboiled to essentially rubber on his first try), and after trying three recipes for different crusts, he decided to go with the one calling for butter and shortening instead of lard.

All this had to be done in secrecy during the times when Zack was away on assignment. Aside from being very adept at getting Cloud to laugh, Zack was also very good at getting Cloud to spill his secrets; it was hard to resist Zack's charm, and Cloud was determined to keep this as a surprise until he produced the best pie he could.

After several somewhat successful attempts (as one time he had forgotten to slit vents in the top crust, causing it to practically explode; and another was so burnt it looked like he had cast Firaga on it), he had a pie he felt was worthy of clownery.

As eager as he was to heighten their tradition to a whole new level, Cloud had the better judgment to wait until the pie wasn't a molten disaster waiting to happen. It took a lot of planning, but he timed the baking and the cooling of the pie with Zack's return from a long mission with expert precision. By the time Zack texted Cloud that he was leaving the mission debriefing, the pie was at a comfortable temperature—somewhere between a suggestive kiss and a warm hug from Zack. It was a strange metric with which to measure one's pie, but an apt one given the circumstance.

Now Cloud was standing behind the front door, ear pressed to the wall to listen for footsteps approaching. There they were—step after step—but Cloud was too anxious to notice they were heavy with unusual strain for someone like Zack the Clown. He rushed to the kitchen, scooping up the pie too quickly that it swayed in his palms. He veered with it in a balancing frenzy, pivoting on his heels right as the door opened.

With as much grace as one could have while throwing a heavy, hot pie filled with chicken and vegetables, Cloud let the symbol for his love fly from his hand, and straight into the weary face of Zack as he entered.

Tender and flaky crust crumbled from Zack's eyes as he blinked. A rich and substantial filling dribbled in ribbons from his chin. Fresh, perfectly diced carrots and peas globbed onto his chest. And the juiciest chicken one could ever imagine was now the welcome mat on which Zack stood.

"Hah! There's your pie!" Cloud shouted triumphantly between his laughter and the sounds of the food splatting onto Zack's boots.

"WHAT THE HELL!" Zack bellowed, his hands tearing away bits of shredded chicken from his eyes as though he had walked into a thicket of dusty cobwebs.

Cloud's laughter died in an instant.

"Who throws a chicken pot pie in someone's face?!"

It was an eternity before Cloud spoke. He stood unmoving, save his eyes to watch the last few peas roll down Zack's nose and drop onto the floor. "Y-You said pie," he finally murmured. "I-I've only ever had chicken before. Wha … What kind did you mean …?"

Zack stammered at first, amazed and dumbfounded—he was clearly not in his usual jovial mood. "Banana cream!" he shouted, looking down at the savory mess in his hands. "Custard! Chocolate silk! Y'know, a DESSERT pie that you hit clowns with!"

It was Cloud's turn to stammer. Squeaks and sounds escaped his agape mouth, all he hoped would convey his immense regret, but none came close.

Zack suddenly broke out into a smile. Whatever fatigue he had carried in from his mission was now sloughing away like the last bits of chicken pot pie on his face. He began laughing, pausing only to lick his lips of the filling and tasting the love which flavored it.

Cloud tittered nervously, watching Zack with hesitation as he approached. Cloud could now feel the warmth between them, that metric which defined the tenderness and the heartiness of their bond. He returned the smile Zack was giving him.

Zack reached up, holding a hunk of the pie at Cloud's eye level. He chuckled, turning the contents of his hand to view it from all sides with adoration. "You clown," he said before smashing the pie in Cloud's face.

End

~*~*~

Happy Pi Day!

This drabble was based off a prompt from twocatstailoring, who suggested "The Great Pot Pie Tragedy of '95. And the Fallout After."

How the heck was I supposed to work with that! Hehehe, hopefully this comes close? IDK but now I want pie.

Special thanks to darknae for editing!

Anyway, since this was the first thing I've written in a long time that wasn't Malady, I thought I'd upload it. Hope you enjoyed reading!


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